


Now I See the Sun

by la_imperdonada



Category: Metallica
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_imperdonada/pseuds/la_imperdonada
Summary: Daisy's life gets and unexpected wild turn after her childhood best friend introduces her to his newly joint band.
Relationships: James Hetfield/Original Character(s), Kirk Hammett/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

It's one of those moments again. I got too lost in thought and started reminiscing about my life. Every day I'm thinking about people who used to make it better, while doing my best to let go the darker thoughts.  
All that I feel now is just emptiness. A shaddow of how I used to feel. Altough that my suffering is over, my happy times are no longer present as well. Thinking deeper if I ever get to live those times again, I suddenly snap back into reality.  
Another friday evening that I'm staying as the last employee of the restaurant, where I got a part-time job as a waitress. It's maybe not the dreamiest way to end up, but it pretty much reflects all that I am doing lately- desperately trying to survive.  
When I notice that I've already organised and cleaned everything to the last detail, like I always do, I set to leave.  
April has just begun, but down there in the Bay Area the evenings are already pretty warm. I simply choose to take a walk to my now-home, a small rent that I am not complaining about as long as it's still somehow habitable.  
If there is something that is lifting up my spirit and filling the void, it's thrash metal. A relatively new sub-genre, and a whole sub-culture and way of living which is, for my best luck, mostly thriving in this area.  
Bunch of angry kids who got sickened from the "golden-wrapped shit" called glam rock, which was blowing up all over for the past years, decided to look up to NWOBHM movement instead, and so they created their own. At least in my opinion, stained black leather, bullet belts and scattered beer bottles embodied the spirit of rock way more that those monkey-like-screaming primadonnas in outrageous spandex.  
Often after work I changed into corresponding outfits and sneaked on some local band gigs. Some of were just trying to be the fastest were senselessly beating the crap out of the instruments, which I didn't really like. But those that learnt to have both brutal and sophisticated tone caught my interest real quick.  
I got too closed into myself to make friends there, and let's not even start with the relationship, but I master enjoying everything alone and without getting too wasted. It's just my way.  
Well, but today, altough it was friday, I chose not to go anywhere. I am simply not in the mood for it.  
When I got back home, it was already almost dark. The bad habit that I'm trying too hard to get rid off- overthinking, started to creep at me again. I gave up this time and decided to sit on a ground by the small table with the phone.  
For the past days I've been wondering if '83 will bring me any change. I felt way too alone and stranded for the age of eighteen. But then my thoughts drifted to the one person because of which I can't consider myself actually alone.  
The fact that there is still someone that cares about me brightened my mood, but on the other hand, the reality of how much I miss him and don't know where he is gave me more anxiety. I just really hope and believe that my prescious read-headed cousin is doing well.  
Suddenly I shook from the sound of the phone ringing by my head. I suppose it was not a good idea to sit like that, altough I absolutely did not expect it to ring. It only does sometimes, when my colleagues have something important, but it's never at this time.  
Wondering who it might me, I curiously pick it up.  
"Mhm?" I carelessly say to the person on the other side.  
"Hey, am I talking to Daisy Ravenel?"  
The sound of the familiar voice makes my heart skip a beat and snap me out of my misery. It feels like an angel appearing with rays of light around.  
"Oh my... Cliff, is that really you?" I snap out with excitement after I finally catch my breath.  
"Yeah. I'm glad that I finally got to reach you. Trust me, it wasn't that easy. How is it going, anyway?"  
Last time that I saw him was the summer shortly after he gratuated, three years ago. Even back then he was the most phenomenal bass player that I could think of, and fairly not just that.  
"You know that I could never lie to you, Cliff. It sucks, but I'm somehow surviving... rather tell me about yourself." I answer honestly.  
"I can say that shit slaps. Few months back I left Trauma because these guys here gave me a better offer. We are acheiving so much pretty fast, it's so fucking amazing." He says with really big enthusiasm in his voice. It honestly made me happy to hear about him doing so well.  
"Woah, I'm happy to hear that." I say.  
After a shorter pause, he continues.  
"You know what? I think that you should come here to SF and check us out. These guys are really great, I'm sure you are going to like it. You can even stay here, as long as you want of course."  
I start shaking, feeling like I'm going to cry.  
"Oh my... of course, I can already leave tomorrow." I snap out.  
We arranged that I will be there by six PM and he will already wait at the station. I shakily put my stuff into my small suitcase and fail to sleep.  
The next day I try to fight off the creeping anxiety by excitement. I board the train with a huge feeling of freedom. My life finally feels like it's coming to some sense.  
I carefully look around after I step out at the station near central San Francisco. I quickly lay my eyes on someone looking at me, and in that exact moment, the joy I remember from my childhood starts filling me after a long time.  
The unforgettable kind smile expressing his extremely kind soul made me almost cry with excitement.  
I ran towards him and hugged him tightly. His long auburn waves and full-denim outfit are soaked with weed smell just as much as I remember.  
"Hey there." He says while he hugs me back.  
"Hi Cliffy. I missed you so damn much." I say while he automatically grabs my suitcase.  
"I missed you too, little Dais." He says back while opening the door of the van standing by, probably the one the band uses for their gear.  
"So, tell me, what is this new band all about?" I decide to obnoxiously get the most information, like I always do.  
"It's called Metallica. They don't just do thrash and shit, they are way different, way higher than the Bay ghetto. They seriously have some unique tone, some detemination and future." He answers while starting the engine.  
"And who is the founder?" I ask again.  
"The least quiet male you will ever meet. Lars Ulrich, an overly annoying spoiled brat from Denmark. But please, altough it can be sometimes really hard, don't put him through a wall. Besides being a drummer, his managing and marketing skills are priceless for the band. You will have to control yourself even more over Dave, the lead guitarist though." He replies as honestly as always.  
"Why? What's wrong with him?" I feel the need to keep asking questions.  
"He's a constantly drunk asshole. And lately it's been getting so bad that it's affecting the band. His days in the band are most definetly counted, because James seemingly can't stand it anymore. He is twice as pissed over Dave's behaviour, because altough Dave had a fucked up childhood, James had it much worse and he is not doing all the shit that Dave does." I don't even know why, but suddenly the last one mentioned caught my attention.  
"Who is James?" I ask even more curiously then before. Maybe I got really obnoxious by now, but I don't actually care. It's in my nature to be always informed about everything the most possible.  
"The frontman; rhythm guitar and vocals. Altough that he is kinda egoistic, he is absolutely introverted and shy. Sometimes he gets too awkward, fearing even to make an eye contact. With the people that he's comfortable he can be real fun. And be a little careful with him, he is kind of mentally unstable." I nod in understandment, realizing that we've just arrived.  
I quickly jump on the ground, setting my eyes on an averagely looking house standing by a boulevard.  
"Welcome to the Metallimansion!" Cliff says sarcastically while opening the door.  
"Well, it's way over my expectations. Fortunately it's not a crack den." He just silently laughs back, heading to the kitchen. I look around, getting positevely surprised over the fact that I don't see empty beer cans, booze vomit and scattered smelly dirty clothes everywhere. The fact that Cliff most likely organised a cleanup before my arrival makes me smile.  
From the door that leads to the most important room in the house, the garage, comes out a loud and brutal sound of drums. After a short while it ends and in a second I almost burst to laughter over seeing a tiny, smelly figure with messed up hair, absolutely out if breath, standing in front of me.  
"Hi, um, I'm Lars." He turns to me smiling, offering me a handshake.  
After a second that takes my brain to realize that he is actually speaking English, I do my best to choke back laughter. His deep accent makes his silly appearance even funnier.  
"Hey, I'm Daisy. Nice to meet you." I give him a handshake and smile back.  
"Nice to meet you too. Cliff told us all about you already, you know. I hope you are, um, going to like it here." He seems to start diving into a conversation. Extroverts will forever be a different breed for me. I'm not going to tell him off though. For once I am actually interested to know more. And I don't even want to put this cute midget through a fucking wall.  
"Yeah. So do you know where is the room prepared for me?" I ask him before he starts an uncontrollable flow. It's obvious that Cliff would gladly do his job, but when he saw him socializing with Lars, he started doing his own stuff. It's true that I better get to know these folks the soonest possible.  
"Umm yeah, of course. I will show you." He politely grabs my suitcase in a swift motion and starts chaotically hopping upstairs. I don't have a clue why or how, but I guess I can be a great friend with this overhyped scandinavian rat.  
I immediately get to like the small but neat room that they prepared for me. Lars hands me the suitcase and I start slowly unpacking.  
Maybe it's not the best idea, but I start to ask him questions. "So you come from Denmark?"  
"Yeah, I moved here with my parents like um, two and half years ago. My dad is a successful tennis player, and he wanted me to have the same career, but I got more interested in drumming, you know. I got into stuff like Iron Maiden, Misfits or Mötorhead and I decided that I really umm, want a band. And when we got here I got so much opportunities, you know." He smiles and gives a bit detailed response.  
"Well tell me, how did you get to form this band?" I ask more.  
"Oh, that was quite simple, you know. I um, not that long into being here I posted an ad into newspaper that I want to form a metal band, and James was pretty fast to respond. He later made his friend Ron McGovney to join yoo, and umm, Dave really eanted to be in the band as well. But Ron later left because of Dave, so we talked Cliff in. And now, here we are." He replies with much enthusiasm in his voice.  
"And what about any original stuff? You have any demos?" I continue.  
"Well yeah, we made several ones. No Life til' Leather even reached Japan. We started to work on our first LP, Metal Up You Ass. You gotta check it out later." I nod while listening, almost finishing my unpacking.  
"Sorry but I gotta go now. If you need anything, don't hesitate. I will be back soon!" He says while already leaving and I just wave.  
Thinking about what to do now, I realize that I haven't eaten today. Not really surprising. So I make my way down to the kitchen, trying to have at least some expectations.  
Besides half-open beers with passive-aggresive post-it notes signifiying the beholder of each ones, I cheer up over my discovery of a bowl with remaining spaghetti with some spicy sauce in the fridge. I suppose that no one is going to eat these leftovers anyways, so I carelessly take it and warm it up.  
Being almost done with preparing my meal, I turn to a sound opening the fridge and a beer afterwards, to see a brighter, carrot-like ginger head leaning into it.  
"Hey. You must be Dave." I didn't know him yet, but he rather have me a vibe of the bitchy egoist rather than the shy kid, so I made an assumption that it's him.  
"Yeah. I guess that you are that Cliff's cousin." He uninterestedly replies while chugging up the beer. I can't deny that he is indeed very pretty, but is attitude definetly isn't.  
I nod while proceeding to eat the spaghetti. They are not that bad after all. Cliff suddenly appears in the doorway, heading to the fridge as well. "Don't you dare touching this one, Mustaine." He turns to Dave, warning him with a kind of seriousness in his voice, grabbing one of the half-drunk cans.  
"I don't fucking plan to." He snaps the response while they both walk out. I just shake my head and giggle to myself.  
I decided that it would be a good idea to wash the dishes. It's most likely that if I won't take care of it here, it will come back to it's previous state pretty fast. But that's not a problem for me.  
After that I look around more, realizing that no one is in the house anymore. Could've expected that.  
Having nothing to do anymore, I shower and go to bed. As per usual, I can't fall asleep fast. This time I finally feel my usual emptiness starting to fill. It makes me genuinely happy that it looks like it's going to work out. Wondering how long am I going to stay here...  
I suddenly realize that I indeed am missing something. My most valued posession, alias my leather jacket. I had to leave it by the door when I got deep into conversation with Lars.  
Feeling sort of awkward wearing just a loose tank top and sweatpants, I decide to quickly sneak for it anyway, because I doubt that anyone as back this early. It's not even 11 PM now and it's Saturday.  
But I suddenly hear noises from the living room. For my own luck, it's surely Cliff who's back. He is definetly going to know where it is.  
"Cliff?" I call while approaching the room.  
An awkward feeling suddenly overtakes me when I notice a head full of long blonde locks instead, leaning over a bag while unloading six pack of beers from it.  
"Cliff is not here yet. You must be Daisy. I'm James, nice to meet you."


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe I am just really tired, maybe my social awkwardness just hit me real hard, or it was some other shit that I am unable to determine.   
In this exact moment I feel like my brain has suddenly stopped working. I just stood there for a moment, staring into his icy blue eyes that seemed to have a lot behind them, and forgot the concept of time.   
"Um yes, that's me. Nice to meet you too." I got out of myself.  
"You must be the singer."  
"Yes, and the rhythm guitarist." He replied, sounding pretty chill. Although that he seems kind of introverted, I don't simply get the impression that he is as much shy as Cliff was describing him. I know him only for a moment, but I was always able to quickly see through people. He rather gave me an impression of someone who is quiet and kind yet so self-assured and determined. Could be the already mentioned ego, but I don't know a lot about it yet though.   
"So you are like, the leader here?" At this point I don't even know what am I doing, and I confess to feeling cringy. But all I know is that I want to keep talking to him.  
"Kind of," he lightly smiled, "but Lars does a lot of leading too, because you know, he is simply way more talkative and extroverted, so that kinda helps a lot."   
I just nodded and smiled, like I always do.  
He suddenly showed me my jacket.   
"Is this yours, by the way? It was lying around and I haven't seen it before."  
Shit, I completely forgot about it.   
"Oh yeah, yes it is, thank you so much. I was searching for it." I feel really assured and hyped up that I finally have it back.   
"It looks dope." He said while handing it to me.   
Feeling stupidly overhyped, I snatched it from him real fast. I even accidentally touched his hand and I suddenly felt so strange. Fucking hell, what shit was in that spaghetti?  
"Oh thank you. Gotta go now. Good night." I feel like I pretty much fucked up, but that's not even a bit surprising.   
"Night." He says with a small laugh as I already march back to bed.  
Waking up the next day got me feeling a bit dizzy. It is already something past 10 AM. Well, at least for this time I will be up later than these guys. Obviously they are not morning people. Neither was ever I, but lately I had to adapt to a different lifestyle. Living here will bring me yet another benefit in form of a freedom, what makes me absolutely glad.  
Thankfully I had at least a small bathroom just for me by the side of my room, so I can get myself together here before heading out between others.  
It seems that they are all already pretty much awake, but most likely not for long.  
Cliff was already dressed in his signature bell bottoms, heading with his bass to the garage. I chuckled over remembering how he was always telling anyone who told him to wear normal jeans to fuck off.   
When I arrive to the kitchen, I once again surpress my laugh over Lars. He is just chaotically sitting there, eating some weird and smelly, probably danish food.   
James is looking sort of less chilled and more concerned than yesterday.  
"Morning, fuckers." I carelessly greet them with a bit amplified attitude.  
Lars just nods and tries to smile and reply something with mouth full of the substance with rather extraordinary odor that I am unable to recognise. I notice that thanks to his careless clumsiness some of his food appeared around the bowl and even on the floor. It makes me cackle once again, but when I take another look at James, who just simply shook his head upon my arrival, sitting there with a facial expression clearly full of desperation and anger, my mood drops.  
"What's going on?" My curiosity wins over my don't-fucking-poke-the-fucking-beehive instinct. It's true that I usually try to stay out of dramas, but my desire to know what the hell is going on in a place where I am about to stay and do my best to exist at least kind of pleasantly here is reasonably stronger. Maybe sometimes balancing on a thin ice could bring some shit. I just need to keep myself out from their fights.  
"Dave again. Lately he's been drinking even fucking more than before and he is becoming an uncontrollable piece of shit. It starts to fuck up the band." James looks a little bit relieved after Lars answered instead of him. Slight anger can be heard from his voice, but overally he sounds and looks more calm about it. James looks way more fucked up, but I understand that. For both it's certainly frustrating that the band they worked so hard for is getting pulled down by a drunk asshole with anger issues, but James has an absolutely different way of seeing things. Lars is maybe the one that overly expresess his every single emotion, I bet that he can get an absurdly dramatic breakdown with carelessly hysterical crying and/or screaming when shit really fuck up, but he is not any more emotional than James. Heck, he seems to be even more. I could pretty much tell that from my personal experience. But there is this something mysterious inside him that I am dying to know, altough it can most likely fuck me up. If only I'd know what made him burn inside and keep his feelings silent...I certainly need to find out his demons. I don't even know why I desire so much to get to know him the most. Deep down I want to understand him to help him so bad, and probably even to help myself.   
Just when I want to respond, I hear someone clumsily walking in. Shit, like the situation here wouldn't be so tense already.   
"Look, our sleeping beauty is finally awake. Feeling great, shithead?" James angrily spits as horribly hungover Dave shakily enters the room.  
"Shut the fuck up. I'm fucking not in the mood for your shit." Dave warningly grits through teeth with tired voice as he gets some water and encounters headache pills.  
"Well, none of us have been in mood for your shit for the past weeks. And you don't seem to give a fuck so I won't either. Is it that hard to get yourself together you drunk fuck?" James gets even more angry and he is almost yelling.  
"Seriously? Are you telling me what to do? Stop fucking pretending like you never drink you opportunistic fuck." Dave barks back.  
"For the fuck's sake, me or anyone else here doesn't do that every single fucking day like you do lately. All we are trying to do here is to not fuck up an aspiring band, but you're doing the opposite. And you are still pretending in front of everybody like you fucking own it." James is now clenching fists as he rises up and punches the table. I am just stressfully watching the situation to roll out and Lars is pretending to be invisible, but still precisely listening to them.  
"Oh yes, so you are going to rub it all in my face. But you are forgetting who wrote crapton of your shit and does a bigger job with stage presence than you. Where the fuck you think you'd be without me now?" Dave's attitude visibly strongly rises.  
"Stop fucking thinking like we owe you anything. You are the part of this band so you contribute a lot but you obviously have to fucking behave, what you constantly seem to forget. Why the fuck do you think you have the main word now? You fucking don't. Get yourself together motherfucker or you will see that you are not irreplaceable." James is hella boiling at this point, but he does not start the fight. It's obvious that Dave is too drunk and James doesn't want to cause a scene this early, but this certainly was a close call. They both leave in opposite directions, full of anger.  
I just wordlessly shake my head and silently thank the saviour who left a store-bought sandwich and a probably unwanted lemonade in the fridge and disappear with it. It looks like it's going to be fun in more ways here.   
Naturally, for the rest of the day everyone's plans are oddly different, so I choose my own programme too.   
I just wanted to get out, but as always I am not really in a mood for people. So I just decided to go for a long walk to see the neighbourhood. It's not really interesting, but it's at least something new after a long time. I enjoy the calm fot the reason that I'm sure that the real fun here will begin soon. But first I need to get to know James.  
Next day I woke up late once again, but this time I didn't get to encounter the rest. Cliff previously told me that during weekdays they are going to be in the studio for the most of time. It simply leaves me wondering how the hell they got Dave to be in a still useful state.   
I take my time alone to tidy up here. Not after a long time I notice that the cleaning they have done before my arrival was really quickly and crappily done, they mostly just stuffed their shit into their dressers and beds, and put wet cloths over booze puke stains. Only few things there were actually well done, presumably by Cliff. Most likely they panicked and forgot what to do in a female presence longer than for an evening. Highly expectable.  
It's not like I want to degrade myself into being their goddamn maid, I basically just prefer everything neat as fuck and I feel like helping them out because I am honestly starting to feel bad after eating their food and living here for free. Maybe it's lowkey a slave mentality, but unfortunately over the time in my past I had no other choice but to develop it.  
At least, when I'm done, I feel accomplished and kind of useful.   
I notice that it's almost evening, and they are still not back. Now I truly don't have any idea what to do, all I know is that I crave a beer. It's obvious that this place has shitton of them lying around, but taking their beer would certainly be a self-given death penalty. Due to that, I take my ass to the nearest shop and buy an entire six pack. Nothing wrong with stocking up a little.   
I rush to cool them all down in the fridge before they all come back. For my big surprise there is not even a single drop of beer around. Those bitches ran out of supplies. Now I hear them coming in. Ah shit, guess that this time I have just to fuck it and pull a charity. I sigh of resignation as I take one.  
"Hey, motherfuckers." I audibly greet them as I open the beer. Somehow it doesn't explode all over.   
"Hey there." I hear some of them say. Without even turning, Dave goes angrily to his room, Lars just throws his bag and vanishes, and Cliff looks still busy. I don't even notice James walking in my direction as I take a sip. Tasty.  
"Hey Day, do you have any more of them?" He awkwardly comes up to me and points at the beer can in my hand. I can tell that he feels bad about it and it's a kind of wrong, but he seems to be desperate. He could be broke or just couldn't find time to get his major power source. Poor boozehead. I'd normally tell anyone to fuck off, but now I just can't refuse under the power of these deep blue eyes. Fuck, I want to slap myself.  
I just simply smile at him, grab and throw him a cold one and nod as he thanks.  
He follows me with his beer as I sit on the couch. I wanted to ask him something, but he is faster.   
"So what did you do until you arrived here?" He asks in a low voice. I'm positively impressed that he wants to know something about me, altough it's natural. It also makes me feel great how he doesn't seem to be so uncomfortable in my pressence.   
"Nothing much, I finished highschool and then I got a job as a waitress not so far from here." I casually answer, trying to calm myself down.   
For now, I don't want him to know about my demons, my past. And I also don't want to tell him about the fact that I only took a vacation.   
"Nothing else?" It sounds like he wants to know more, but I can't spill everything in this moment.  
"I didn't really have time for much stuff. I went to some concerts though. But rather tell me about yourself, I think it's going to be more interesting." I try to escspe from it.  
"Well, I formed this band with Lars not so long after I've graduated. At first I had to do lots of different manual jobs to earn money for the gear and stuff, you know, but now I fortunately don't have to do that shit anymore." He replied in a similiar manner.  
"So, you used to struggle as well?" I try to step up a little bit.  
"Yeah, I can say that." He looks at me like he knows that I'm hiding something. Maybe he even knows that it's mutual.


	3. Chapter 3

Another day passes, but my mindset somehow remains unchanged. It seriously worries me, but doesn't suprise me much. I got used to a difficult life full of cold and emptiness, but because of that I had to die inside. It's no doubt that I tried to enjoy this oppoturnity of escape from reality that I got few days ago, but something was keeping me from enjoying it to the fullest. I can say that it kind of feels simliar to when soldiers during world wars came back home for a 14-day leave and simply couldn't force themselves to feel the same things as they did before leaving for the frontline. They felt absolutely disconnected from the past, from the real world, like the part of them died. Obviously, it was worse, but I see the analogy. One can get used to any type of suffering, but they always need to make a sacrifice in form of murdering a part of who they are in an equal amount to the amount of pain.  
And equally as them I couldn't escape the feeling that this will soon end. Back to the front. Back to the life full of nothing but the endless fight to survive.   
But I know that I will obviously regret if I spend this leave full of obsessive rumination. No matter what, I will try to enjoy this. At least I will have some memories and even some new friends. Maybe it will even have the power to somehow change me... but for what? Changing my mindset of hiding my feelings from outer world can be either ride or die only in my case. Deep down under the pile of dark black emotional void there's something huge desperately fighting out trying to feel some closeness with someone for once. On the other hand it can destroy the rest of me if it goes wrong. Altough I'm trying to pretend that I'm though as fuck and I never let anything to get to me, I can't lie about the fact that I've been cursed with hyper-sensitivity. There are lots of variously deep scars on my soul that I bury deep down in my shell of a being, while trying to ignore the fact that they are all silently creeping up and one day they will take their toll. If there will never be a positive way out of this darkness, there are only two ways to slowly silence it: either by a silent self-destruction or by letting it all out on the surrounding with an immerse amount of ignorant agression. Well, it's for my own bad, but I'd rather fuck up myself than innocent others. Besides that it's the truth that everyone is mostly responsible for their misery. There is almost always a right way out, but you need to have a strength to fight for it. And I will try.  
All that I actually ever wanted was someone to understand me, but that was always hard to find and pretty easy to loose. If there would be just one person who is always fully there for me and feels the real empathy towards my pain, I wouldn't actually need anything else. Well, I am grateful for all those people that ever cared about me, like Cliff, my other cousins and outer family and some of my friends, but it was unfortunately never enough to fill up the void left by my absent and fully ignorant father, my maybe-somehow-trying but still distant and sort of abusive mother and my older sister that I'm even unable to blame because of the similiar circumstances that shaped her. I could never change that, but I can still change my future. There's a lot of energy that I will need, but I won't mind finding it despite everything.   
If only I had someone like James, who is sweet enough not to hurt me but still broken enough to understand me. People like these are quite complicated and they sure can give a hard time, but it's definetly worth it for me. I realise that I had luck to meet him, but I need to get this thought right out of my head. He wouldn't even lean his bike over me, and even if he would, he doesn't deserve anyone to pull him down. He deserves a cheerful, charming model that always brightens up the mood. Maybe she can understand him even despite not going through such pain and not make him suffer even more with her own problems like I accidentally could. There I see that I am not enough to have something that's definetly worth it. I don't know how yet, but I need to change a lot of thing on myself to be actually deserving of happiness.  
Despite that I wish for him to be at least my friend. All I want is just to help him, and maybe even somehow get some help for myself from it. I need to be extremely careful with it to not hurt him during the process. Fuck it, I don't even know if I am even still capable for something more. I truly hope and believe that I am, but I can't be so sure. Altough that I am young and as everyone would say; I still have a lot to live through, I already feel so lost. I've never really known the true, deep compassion that everyone stupidly seeked throughout the entire life. And altough I learnt how to live without it, part of me still craves it to point of agony. For now I have to bury it.

When it comes to the current situation here, I just decided to stay away. It was pretty easy though, thanks to the fact that they spent the most of their days in the studio. I always hated ignorance, but in this case it's better to stay out, because I barely know what's going on, I don't currently enough have mental energy for such a feud and they better resolve it for themselves. Despite that Dave's most recent behaviour fortunately doesn't really affect the recording process, the tension reminds quite strong and visible. I am definetly looking forwards their next gig, I am dying to see them live, but I also get the feeling that it can fuck up even more there. It's highly possible that Dave's days in Metallica are counted, and I don't want to know what kind of drama is going to happen next. Let's just hope that the next guitarist won't be so keen to cause such drama.  
On thursday morning I thank myself for finally not oversleeping. Well, it's not really useful because the guys are already setting to leave. To hell with that, I barely catch up with them. True, I got to love the solitude but now for those few days I want to spend the most time with this company I have now. My time is running out also.  
Cliff turns at me smiling, while heading to the door. "Morning Daze." He waves.  
"Morning." I say, noticing that no one else is around anymore. "I have an idea. Come and join us to see us recording Metal Up Your Ass. It will be fun, I promise." He states, being seemingly in a little hury.   
It honestly brightnes up my mood, but I don't feel like it right now.   
"Sure thing. But I will rather join you after your lunch break." I offer with a little joy in my voice.  
"Alright. See ya." Cliff says while already heading out.  
"Bye." I loudly respond as the door shuts.  
I enjoy the calm, sunny morning and somehow decide to do their laundry. It looks like it hasn't been washed in a quite long time. I even noticed Lars wearing a same, old, worn out, horribly smelling tank top with something in Danish in it for various days in a row, without having any problem with it. But well, at least someone from his surrounding does. He is indeed a different breed, altough that I heard that Scandinavians are actually pretty sophisticated. For the record, the other guys are, despite being way more hygienic than him, not saints in this either. Helping them out can maybe feel a little bit like a slave mentality, but I actually enjoy taking care of this wacky little motherfuckers.  
My dumb ass forgot to ask both the location and way of transport to the studio, but fortunately the probably only one that still has or ever had the ability to fully think there, aka Cliff arrived just in time to give me a lift there.   
When we got there, the vibe here felt quite harmonic. Dave was quiet and calm while tuning his guitar, as I have never seen him before, James was silently chugging up beer from a can and Lars was stuffing his tiny mouth with last bits of a huge sandwich while chewing undeamably loud. I like his punk-like attitude with not giving a single fuck, but this ratty boy gives literally negative amounts of them. A great example that sometimes you maybe should give at least some of them after all.  
The first one to notice me was suprisingly Dave, who just carelessly nodded and gave a silent "hey". James raised his beercan and smiled. Fuck, I can't fight the fact that he is actually pretty cute. And Larzy-poo obviously greeted me audibly and offered me some weird danish candy that I accepted.   
"So, are you ready to hear our brutal shit?" He asks with still half-full mouth and a carelessly strong accent. Shit, I still need time to stop being about to burst to uncontrollable laughter every single time when this funny tiny overly-extroverted dane interacts with me.  
"I'm fucking excited. Just please don't fuck up." I reply with a subtle laughter as I taste some of the small chocolates with a mint caramel fudge in the center. Damn, it's so fucking good.   
"Don't worry, we surely won't dissapoint you." He says back giggling. I heard that he didn't even know what a tact is when he started professionally drumming two years ago, but I believe that he's a great drummer now.   
I walk out of the recording room and listen to them in the corridor. From the moment that Lars shouts 1,2,3,4 and they hit the first notes it feels like my soul is leaving my body. Holy shit, these guys have everything. Their music is all fast, rhytmic, interesting, pleasant to hear and has a spirit. They sure have lots of energy to offer to the listeners and they are also full of the pure metal drive. When I recall all the articles that I used to randomly write about local thrash band in the highschool, I think about what a great article I'd write about them. I can safely say that they are far above all of the rest, they have something special to offer.   
It's certain that they are better to experience live on stage, but this gave me lots of serotonin even despite all of the tiring mistakes, retakes and shit. I haven't felt this alive in a long time. It literally woke up my emotions, but unfortunately the negative ones just like the positive ones. Towards the end I started feeling kind of anxious and hopeless. Fuck it so bad. The feeling of emptiness still remains almost fully there even after something so astonishing, and this fact rips me apart. It pisses me off so hard but I can't even fight it. And I also feel guilty because I don't want to dissapoint these guys that wanted to make me feel better. Unfortunately, it seems that there's no help for me. But for now I have to hide my despair and misery.  
"So what do you think?" Cliff asks me when they walk out of the booth.  
"Holy fuck, this was some real shit! Shit, I am truly speechless. You guys will surely make the whole fucking world shit themselves." I reply with my haze that is still there.  
"We are absolutely working on it." He responds with a laugh.   
They all seem quite happy and accomplished but also reasonably tired. I wish I was in a mood to go drinking with them, but they don't really seem to be into the idea now either. They all seem to be deeply in a conversation while they go to pack up their stuff. I previously told Cliff that I can return by myself on the way back if they don't have any space left, and they obviously don't. It's quite near so I won't have a problem with taking a walk.   
After looking around after them and seeing that they are finishing with loading the truck, I go back to the empty recording room. No one is there anymore, just someone cleaning on the other side of the building. It's dark already and the place seems so empty. Perfect to let out my freshly woken up bottled up feelings. In the house it's quite different, because I always have something to do there and I am careful because I never know when they will suddenly return. The amount of times when Lars unexpectedly rushed back because he forgot his drumsticks or some questionable smelly sandwich is not even believable for me. And I don't want any of them to catch me having a mental breakdown, that just doesn't feel right.  
I just slowly sit on the floor and try to break all the walls that keep me away from expressing and realising what I feel. My painful life is something that I must move on from, but it still leaves a mark and I can't just run away from it. Shit, there it goes, few small tears start sprinkling down my cheecks. At least no one sees me.   
It's obvious that I need to let it out and fight it sometimes throughout my soon-to-be-future life. Well, but how?  
I get so lost that I barely hear someone getting closer. It's probably just someone from around checking the place, about to tell me to get lost. I want to get up to minimize the awkwardness, but I suddenly feel too weak.   
Shivers run down my spine when I notice James standing in the doorway. This was a bad idea from the start, but I lost the ability to give fucks. I didn't think about the possibility of him coming back to check if they have everything. So here we are now. I simply look away, hoping that he will just silently disappear and keep it to himself. But yeah, the opposite happens. All of a sudden a look full of worry appears on his face and he approaches me. Fuck it, the shit that scares me so bad always somehow happens to me. Nice.   
It lowkey surprises me how he just slides next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. "Hey. What happened?" He silently asks.   
"Nothing about any of you guys. It's something from the past. Way too absurd." I decide to respond even though I start to choke and my voice sounds shaky.  
"I believe it's not. Trust me, I know a lot about past traumas. Tell me, you know that I won't spill it out." He grabs me even closer now. I suddenly feel like I can rely on him, altough such rushed display of affection kind of scares me. To hell with it now though.   
I take a deep breath. "My life was always full of nothing but misery. Living in poverty wasn't as bad for me like living in an emotional poverty as well. My dad was a abusive alcoholic that left when I was small. Since then I always moved around with my mom and older sister. Mom tried but she couldn't really do anything nice for me. In order to survive she even had to the... gross stuff. And my sister tried to fight for herself. I was left all by myself, and altough I got used to that it still kills me inside, and makes me think that I will never be able to feel again, to ever be happy." I choke back even more tears.  
"I'm so sorry. And I understand you. I grew up in a strictly religious family that dictated my life my entire childhood. Dad left when I was 13, and when I was 16 I lost my mom forever. She died because of her strong religious beliefs. I will probably never get fully over that, but yet here I am trying to enjoy every single day." He calmly states, leaving me fucked up.  
I had no idea he's been through such shit, far worse than me.  
"Oh my... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" I shakily start, but he cuts me off.  
"It's alright. I learnt to live with that. It even makes me feel stronger, that I am able to acheive lots of great things even despite all the bad shit. It's gonna be okay. Just calm down." He says in a low tone, slowly stroking my hair. I get even closer and he wraps his arms around me, and I do that as well. This is not my common behaviour, but realizing how much he can understand me makes me feel way to comfortable. So much that I become absolutely careless.  
I look up as he keeps stroking my hair. All I want in this moment to feel the closeness, the warmth. Like there's no tomorrow, I quickly decide to taste his soft lips. It feels so reasurring. He immediately kisses me back, even harder, and even grabs my face.


	4. Chapter 4

The daze completely lays off as I walk back to the house shared by the band and the realization of how stupid and impulsive my action was. Shit, I'm so fucked. It's true that he didn't push me away, actually did the opposite, but I'm sure that it was just out of pure pity. He must think now that I'm such a desperate nutty hag. I need to avoid him at all costs until I leave. And it's going to be tomorrow. Congratulations to myself, I fucked up as I always tend to and I cut my vacation short. The worst part is that I won't even be able to see them live. Maybe soon I will buy a ticket and mix myself in the crowd. But for now I am choosing the flight option from my flight-or-fight reflex that has just triggered. For me it's pretty unusual to choose this option, but sometimes it's better to back down, and especially now.  
At least I hope that he won't tell anybody, altough I can easily become a laughing stock for long after this.  
For my big surprise, but also excitement, they haven't arrived yet. Guess they went to thrash themselves after another successful recording day.   
I quickly storm to the kitchen to find something to calm down. Instead of stealing someone's beer, I chug up several big gulps of almost-full opened bottle of Russian Standard so hysterically that I almost puke it all out in a second and the remainders of it pour down my chin. I don't plan on getting drunk though, I think I caused much trouble already. Guess that I caused worse shit during mental breakdowns than while being drunk. And let me say that the drunk shennanigans were absolutely fucked up.  
The next day I somehow woke up quite early. Shit, I need to quickly pack up my shit and make up an excuse.  
I bolt down the stairs and look around, but I can't see Cliff. Instead I see Lars, and he notices me too. Fuck, no force on earth is able to get rid of him.  
"Morning, Daze. I see that Cliff told you about today's gig in New York, I'm sure that you are fucking excited just like all of us." He quickly squeaks with his still-ultimately-thick Danish accent.  
The bag almost drops from my hand.  
What the fuck? A gig today? Not a local one, but in New York? Once again I am the one that is the least informed. Nice.  
My plans are fucked, but I'm glad. Let's just play along.  
"Umm, yeah, sure thing! When are we leaving?"   
"In ten minutes. Fucking hell, I need to get all the shit together so fast." He blurts our and quickly disappears.   
Great. I just quickly check if I have all the stuff and go outside. I can't see anybody, so I just wait for Lars.  
When we leave, Cliff apologizes me for forgetting to tell me about the gig. It was meant to be a suprise that was meant to be told yesterday, but it didn't go out as planned. Nevermind now, I understand that he was preocupied.  
At any other ocassion I'd be annoyed if Lars would stick on me, but today I'm thanking Denmark for giving this world this overly talkative tiny drummer.   
I remained left out during the packed up van drive to the airport. While they helped loading a small, shitty airplane, lended by the managment from record company, I enjoy a cig.  
James fortunatelly fell asleep on the jet pretty fast. I will do my best avoiding him here, altough it barely looks easy.  
Cliff, the most responsible one, has to watch Dave. They all have their buttocks clenched for him not to fuck up one of such bigger gigs with his lately overly excessive behaviour.   
So I am still stuck with Lars. He always needs someone to talk to, no matter where he is. Like he'd fucking perish if he'd shut up for a mere second.  
"Are you normally nervous before gigs?"   
I ask him, trying to make a conversation.  
He giggles. "No, absolutely not. We are all always full of energy and excitement before getting on stage. James is sometimes awkward around people, but stage is like, his real home to him so he always fights off his social insecurities."  
To hell with it, I don't want to talk about James.  
"But what about Dave? Aren't you anxious from his shitty behaviour? What if he gets thrashed there and fuck everything up?" I ask, to change the topic.  
"Fuck him, we will watch him closely and besides that he's not that stupid. But let's hope that he won't get in a fight with James." Lars answers, looking more serious.  
"They actually fight?" I had no idea that it really can go that far.  
"Yeah, fortunatelly they stopped doing that for long but they often jumped into each other for almost every inconvenience. Dave is certainly fucked if that happens again." He states and than looks around.  
"Keep it to yourself, but we already secured a new guitarist." He says quietly.  
"Ohh, who's the lucky fella?" I am actually not that suprised.  
"We got him from Exodus." He says with enthusiasm in his voice.  
I heard about that band, but I don't really know much about them.  
"What the hell, you stole Gary Holt?" Lars could lure anybody in, his social skills are something I will never be able to process.  
He laughs and shakes his head.  
"No, we got the founder, Kirk Hammett. He should be ready anytime Dave gets kicked out."   
"Sounds nice though. Do you know him well?" I get interested.  
"Not really, I've never met him, but I heard a lot. James talked to him and saw him playing and said that he's a phenomenal guitar player, he knows better than me."   
"But what is he like personally?" I ask further.  
"Well I heard that he is a really chill and fun type of guy, we'll see." He replies doubtfully. Let's just hope he will help with calming down the situation in the band.  
If that's going to be just another jerk with burning ego, this band will soon make a real-life reenacment of Hamlet. They even have a tiny Dane with not-so-tiny aggressivity. But I suppose that James rather chose someone who will help with making headlines with an album and not with a carnage.   
I got to think that opening this topic won't be really productive and I will rather get surprised. So I rather asked Lars about his previous spoiled-scandinavian-brat life and asked him to teach me some Danish profanities just for fun. Because why not?  
We had to board off and get all the shit out real quick. The fucking headache that suddenly crept up on me added quite spice to that.  
It's around 2PM now and the gig starts at 8. When I count in the sound check and all the equipment moving that they have to assist, my hope of successfull avoiding of James gets higher. Still, it barely looks any easy.   
Fuck everything now, I'm seeing a slightly bigger gig for free and from backstage! I never believed that this could ever happen to me. The excitement of it brilliantly fights off my anxiety.   
Lars also got to tell me that there will be another gig in New York tomorrow, so we are staying here overnight. We can't stay on the plane and the budget is not enough for a hotel there, so we will be staying in some fotunately not absolutely sleazy motel.   
We all just quickly drop our bags in one room because no one really has time now to care about who will share a room with who. Something is telling me that this will be much fun.  
First thing they all do is grabbing some lunch. I rather chose to find a gas station and buy here a sandwich. Fortunately no one was asking anything. At least.  
It was quite close to the motel, but not really to the venue. Seems that I took my time, so I had to call a taxi which wasn't the cheapest option.   
Lucky enough, I made it even way before the gig, but rather than going in, I take another cigarette. Not the best solution, but I still need to gather more strength to talk to James.   
Just a few minutes before the gig happens I get it to the backstage. I can see that there's quite a lot of people.   
From the minute that they start playing the first notes I feel like entering another dimension. It's just so much different from the studio. They truly unleashed all of their potential and energy there. Not any other band I ever saw could ever compare.   
Suddenly I felt the need to write my impressions out, as a memory.  
-The way how they do everything perfectly their own special way with such uniqueness and determination separates them from all the other similiar thrash metal bands. They send their energy to the audience that's all high in daze, and the audience gives all of that massive amount of the energy back. It's a strong, massive magical cycle of power creating a fury which embodies the spirit of metal.-  
Woah, that kind of fell out from me.   
That gig was absolutely perfect. Dave seemed sober, James wasn't awkward, Cliff was the happiest he could be and Lars got the right tempo.   
The way how they all seem maximally satisfied and happy right after the gig ended makes me sort of emotional. I quickly give them a praise before they go and talk to some fans. Cliff seems to be the most enthusiastic about it from the bunch. James sometimes gives me that we-need-to-talk look, but I just ignore him. They are too busy now anyways.  
The shitty part comes when we arrive back to the motel.  
"Alright now, everyone shut up and resolve how will we part the rooms." Cliff said it like an order. He often acts with the rest of the bunch like they were kids, because in fact he's still the least childish in the bunch.   
"I'm not staying with Lars again." Suprisingly, James is the first to intervene. Nice. I don't know what happened the last time, but he seems absolutely determined about the statement.   
"Cliff, I want to stay with you." Lars blurts out.   
"Alright. What about the rest, then?" Cliff carelessly reacts. Fuck this shit.  
Flight reflex again. I can quickly find something else even now. This motel is unfortunately full, but I will find something. Or I will sleep on the outdoor corridor, the night is warm and for me it's way better than to stay with James or Dave. The thought makes shivers run down my spine.  
"Fuck the lot of you, I already have something else. Bye, motherfuckers." Dave happily proclaims and disappears.   
"So, I guess that we are set." Cliff says, with slight anger and exhaustion in his voice. I don't want to piss him off and I absolutely don't want to stay with Lars either for various reasons, so I just stay quiet and prepare to face my fate.  
"Yeah. Night, fuckers." James says rather coldly and signalizes me to come.  
Fucking hell, or how Lars taught me, for helvede.


	5. Chapter 5

All that I can do now is to to take a deep breath and do my best to explain and not to shit myself.   
"Look, I'm so fucking sorry for yesterday. I had a fucking breakdown and totally lost myself. Please, don't think of me like of some nuthead, I don't even remember how to feel-" I start as he goes to unlocks the door, but I get cut off.  
"Shhh, why so chaotic? I'm not mad at you, I know how tough it can be when it comes to emotions. Just let it out, never let it pile up." The way of how James seems to be chilled makes me kind of uncomfortable.  
As we go inside I feel like I'm shaking.  
"But...it's not absolutely like that. I don't even know what was that. I don't want to be some broad, but your friend." That was partially a lie, but I did my best to say that in a most convincing way possible. Maybe I am trying to bury the fact that I want him so bad, but sex and empty shit like that were never priorities to me. What was always really important to me is mutual compassion, some form of higher understanding. And that's why I always kept saying that if I ever have a serious relationship, it's going to begin as a friendship rather than like a straightforward fast hookup. Passion burns out pretty fast, altough it can last longer sometimes, and it reveals how weak the real connection actually is. That is something that I certainly don't need, I don't crave more suffering and pain. Mutual understanding it's more of a ride-or-die thing, it either forms or not, but when it does, it remains forever even through the dark ages.   
I want to ruin our friendship so bad one day. But if it won't be possible, I won't be mad. At least I will have someone.  
He gives a weak smile. "I'm alright with that. Just please, calm down already."  
I try to, but he immediately makes it impossible for me by lightly touching my arm. Still I can act like it though.  
"Okay, I already am." I say assuringly. "Well, but wouldn't it be better if I change with Cliff?" It's not easy for me to say that, but staying here wouldn't be any more easier.  
"Hell no. Cliff's pointy knees and elbows never let me sleep. And trust me, you don't want to share a room with Lars." He answers with a small, ironic laughter.  
"You said that you calmed down already. What's wrong again?" Seems that I should've just shut up and stop getting on his nerves.  
"Nothing, it was just if you don't have a problem with that." I tried to cover up my reasons. Lately I became somehow afraid of being close to him, and I have no idea why is that. Maybe it's because I always first fear the best fucking things. Or is it my intuition?  
"Obviously not. Just stop pouting already." His lowered tone and the way how he pulled me closer to the side made me give in to the feel of closeness that I fear yet crave so much.  
We sat on the lowkey crappy bad and talked about music for quite long. Turns out that he listens mostly to early 70s hard rock stuff and NWOBHM, which is pretty similiar to my taste and it's objectively the best shit. Seems that we can get along.   
When we decide that it's time to go to sleep already, he goes to fish out some old shirt from his bag to change it from the Misfits one. I definetly should not look at him carelessly changing it, but fuck it, I can't resist the urge. Dayum, he is indeed hot as fuck, but I have to force myself to not care about it even a bit for now.  
"Do you tend to have nightmares?" He suddenly becomes serious again.  
"Yeah, almost every night. But I got used to them." I carelessly answer.  
"You can never actually get used to traumatic stuff. Escape from it the soonest you can."   
"Alright, but how?"  
Instead of answering, he lays beside me and holds me. "By having someone that helps you out of your shit."

The next day I enjoyed the gig even more. Instead of going back home, we head to Jersey because there's going to be the next gig and in the meantime the boys will record some parts here. Lars even borrowed us a house from the record company or something like that, I swear he can turn anything into his favour.  
Everything seems fun until the sunday evening, when shit hits the fan.  
The next day the recording was meant to start quite early, so everyone was told not to get fucked up real bad and be available and able to play the best possible in the morning. But Dave was never the one to give a shit. It was obvious that his unproblematic behaviour wouldn't last long, and now the match has burnt out completely.  
The ginger casually comes back late, barely walking, smelling like a dirty, cheap, low-class tavern and tries to make his way straight to the small bedroom when he is meant to be sleeping, with his significant bitchy grin plastered over his face.  
First one to notice everything is, unfortunately, James. I can see his blood boil from the distance. Fuck, the shit it about to go down.  
"What the fuck are you doing again? I fucking warned you shithead. Who do you think is going to tolerate your bullshit forever?!" He jumps from the couch, clenching fists and raising his voice full of anger.   
"Fuck off. Stop telling me what to do you twink. Don't act like you are completely sober, hypocrite." Horribly drunk, maybe even a bit stoned Dave says back with a warning tone.   
"I am not fucking up the band like you do. Yet you act like you own it everywhere we go. This was the last fucking straw." James gets even more pissed off and shouts.  
"Fucking up? I am saving it, fuckface! You are just a bunch of angry kids with acne who barely know the chords, or even anything about life! You wouldn't go anywhere without all the shit that I wrote." Dave shouts back, with his drunk anger seeming about to burst out. It starts to scare me.  
"Fuck you and all your stupid shit, we can live without that. You are way too fucked up for this band. Get the fuck out." James angrily yells, looking like he's about to punch Dave. But Dave is faster and he catches his hand. In one swift motions, he warningly punches James in his stomach. That doesn't scare him, it gives him even more attitude instead. So he aims for Dave's face and punches him pretty hard under the eye. Shit, they really started openly fighting.   
Dave has no any remorse left as he clenches his right fist the tightest he can, and in a split second it lands brutally hard in James' jaw. My heart leaps at the sight as I watch it from the stairs, feeling bad that I don't intervene but I know it would make it way worse. Where the fuck are Cliff and Lars now?!  
Blood starts pouring from his mouth as he gives Dave a disgusted look and pushes him to the bed. It looks like that he used all of his remaining strength to that punch, so he passes out.   
I quickly down and raid the first aid kit for some bandages or shit.  
The look of defeat and pure disgust as he holds his mouth while coming out from Dave's room leaves me thrilled. I can already hear Cliff and Lars coming back.  
"Fucking hell, are you allright?" I hysterically blurt out.   
"Yeah. But that fuck won't be." He says with lots of pain in his voice.  
I sit him on the edge of staircase and observe his wound, seeing that two of his lower teeth on the side are broken. All I can do is to try and stop his bleeding.   
"What the fuck happened here?" The two say almost at the same time.  
"That fucker got thrashed again and they got in a fight." I quickly answer.  
James seems to be deep in thought for a second, and then suddenly his face says that he made a final decision.  
"This motherfucker is out of Metallica."


	6. Chapter 6

Seems that the match has finally burnt out. It's certain that altough this situation isn't any neat, it's going to be great for both sides. The endless, stupid fights will finally cease, and hopefully this will hit Dave hard enough to change him. It will take quite time and maybe some different turns that aren't going to be exactly neat, but it will definetly be worth it after all.  
I chose to rather stay out of it all. Despite that I can't really sleep.   
In the morning, I hear the rest of the bunch marching up to the room with still passed out Dave. Tension can be felt in the air, but it's certain that the worst it's already behind.  
I choose to listen silently from my doorstep. Cliff stays in the corridor, deciding to stay mostly out of it.  
James and Lars march up to his bed, with rather indifferent expressions in their faces.  
"Dave? Wake the fuck up." Lars leans over him and shakes his shoulder.  
"W-what is happening? Leave me alone." Dave blurts out with sleepy voice, sounding like he's in pain.  
"You are out of the fucking band." James says straightforwardly.  
"What the fuck? Why?" He quickly sits up, looking all shocked.  
"You heard me, bitch. Pack up your shit." James doesn't fuck around.  
"What? No warning? No second chance?"   
Dave still looks fucked over like he just woke up in the fucking magical land of Oz. That's actually pretty much justified, I don't even want to imagine his hangover and most likely he barely remembers yesterday's events.  
"You got a lot of chances already fucker. You blew this one the worst you fucking could. Get up, the bus to LA leaves in an hour." James continues.  
"A fucking bus? You gotta be shitting me. That's like a four day ride. No way." Dave says with shaky voice full of regrets and defeat.  
"There's nothing better we can do for you. Quick, get yourself together. I'm giving you a ride to the bus station in an half an our." James adds as he leaves the room, looking slightly guilty.   
Not so long after, he came back for Dave, already silently heading out. At that exact moment me reminded me of the Fallen Angel painting. His face screams with defeat, pain, and also a terrbile hangover.   
This long journey back home will be undoubtedly hard and challenging. I suppose that he doesn't really have much money right now and will certainly rely on the kindness of strangers on this way. But I believe that this will help him realize that he needs to change. I still believe in him.  
He either becomes a dying homeless man, or a rockstar, nothing else, and that's up to him.  
And I also hope that he realizes what he lost. These guys were most likely the only thing that he had besides his mother and sister. Yet he didn't value that that much.  
The difference between him and James stuns me. James has even less yet he acts way less hurt on the outside. I guess that everyone has their own ways of coping. And they hurt differently too.  
Cliff just shakes his head and goes to make a call with the new guitarist, as it was probably arranged.  
"So what now?" I approach Lars, stuffing his head like nothing happened.  
"We are getting the new guitarist already today. Everything it's already perfectly set up. Even Exodus was meant to play a show nearby, so he can get there pretty fast." He sounds like he feels no guilt towards Dave's firing, but in my opinion he just hides it.   
"Oh yeah, that's nice. But are you sure that he's just going to suddenly abandon his own band in a day?" I ask curiously.  
He laughs it off. "Sure thing! He is not even going to hesitate." He says with full confidence and half-full mouth.   
I just shake my head and borrow a cigarette from someone's abandoned pack. That wasn't a good decision. If they were Dave's, I have a free pack now. At least something positive.  
I truly hope for better, but I feel kind of nervous over this new guitarist. Trying to ignore the thoughts about the possibility that he's going to be even worse to get along with than Dave, I decide to leave it for the surprise.  
Not long after, I see that everyone has dissapeared. Maybe they went to pick up the new guy.  
I decide to clean up the storm from Dave's wild drunkening session, altough it grosses me out, to sort of help the band to make a better impression for the newbie. Maybe he doesn't really give fucks about perfect order and purity, but I think that it's going to be better if the first thing he'll notice won't be a smelly puddle of booze vomit, left as a gift from his predecessor.  
It took kind of time to get the dirty work done. I march downstairs to get a beer from the kitchen, but suddenly I see someone unknown, with black leather jacket and thick, black shoulder-length curly hair already stealing one. Suddenly I freeze in horror of what the fuck it's happening, but then I realise.   
"Are you the new guitarist?" I ask with a little fear in my voice.  
He quickly turns and I feel like something just me.   
His face looks really cute and baby-like, and his little smile seems to be full of kindness. That gives me lot of relief.  
"Yes, that's me. I'm Kirk, by the way." I can't help it, but his typical Cali boy accent sounds absolutely sweet. Fuck, get yourself together!  
"How did you even get there?" I try not to sound like I'm interrogating him, but I'm not really good at it.  
"It was unlocked and I they told me the address, so, you know. I thought that the guys are gonna be here." Poor guitar boy, he seems so damn confused. The lack of responsibility of those fuckers pisses me more and more every single day.  
"Well, no one is there right now. But I believ e that they will return soon. I'm Daisy, by the way. I'm Cliff's cousin and I'm staying there for a vacation." I reach my hand out for a handshake. He accepts it and smiles even wider. "Nice to meet you." I peek at his open bag which is full of old horror comic books. Oh my, he is such a prescious nerd. Such a cutie, but also charismatic and kind of a badass. He definetly has a great future with this band. But fuck it, it's indeed going to be hard as fuck to control myself over him. Catches like him always have girlfriends. And besides that I have to remind myself that things like basic relationships based on just getting along and attraction are not a value to me. Sure, I'd love to have someone to hold me and understand me, but that's not that easy to acheive, and right now I'm not ready for that. I'm not ever sure if it's going to be better to have someone with a happy backstory and an enormous amount of empathy, or rather someone who has been broken and scarred close to the way that I am. I guess that I will leave it for now.  
"So, how did the guys from your band react when you just stood in front of them and said that you are leaving?" I try to make a conversation.  
"Um, they were of course bitching about it a lot but then they understood everything. At first we settled up things and then we started wrestling." He lets out a small laugh that makes me melt.  
"Aren't you the founder of the band?" I bring it up.  
"Yes, actually, I named it, formed it and everything. We even made a blood pact together... but you know, these guys gave me a way better opportunity. And I left them everything that I wrote without asking for a credit in the future, so I guess that they will do just fine without me." He sounds a little bit guilty.  
We chat for a bit and soon someone comes back. It's Cliff, looking full of joy as he sees Kirk. He immediately goes to greet him and gives him a friendly hug. I bet that these two will become best friends.  
James soon appears as well and greets Kirk with a big smile. This moment radiates warmth of a welcoming of a new family member.  
Lars stops dead in tracks after he rushes in and takes a look at the band's new lead guitarist. I almost burst out laughing at him. He stares at him with his mouth wide open and his eyes almost falling out. When he regains composure, he sloppily runs up to him to take a closer look, looking red as a fucking tomato.  
"Ummm, hi, I'm Lars. Welcome to this fucking band, man! Do you, um, want a beer?" Lars awkwardly blurts out. And I thought that Kirk got me taken aback. Shit, Lars is so fucked up from him. It's so hard to hokd back my laughter, and everybody else feels the same.  
"I already had one, thanks." He says with a giggle and Lars looks like he's going to melt in any second. I can't stop watching this.   
"Let me show where you will be staying so you can unpack. Dave's room isn't the best idea, you know, so you can stay with me." Lars swiftly grabs his bag and motions him upstairs.   
I wish to make a remark about my hard work of cleaning all the shit up, even changing the fucking sheets, but I don't want to ruin his fun. I don't desire a cruel Danish revenge.  
Recording process, got, of course, fucked up. Fortunately they didn't have a lot of material yet. They also have to rewrite some of Dave's shit, but they will certainly keep some of it. Something's telling me that it will cause lots of fun in the future.  
Instead they practiced with Kirk until their next gig on the 16th. Damn, this kid really got talent. Audience seems to adore him too. The amount of feel and energy he has is addicting. Looks like the bright times are coming.   
It's kind of a pity that I have to leave them in two days.


	7. Chapter 7

All that I can do now is to fight off creeping thoughts about my leaving, which is happening tomorrow, so I can enjoy my last day with the lads here. My life will get back into it's usual emptiness. Well, at least I will have some memories with me and maybe this trip opened me up at least a bit. Maybe finding new people won't hurt that bad. But on the other hand, I will never stop missing these guys. They will probably soon forget me, but I will check them out on a gig anytime when possible anyways. At least I hope that Cliff will make some time to check on me... but I have no idea about the rest. My only wish is for James to find his peace, sooner or later.   
I enjoyed this time here, but unfortunately they had no time to go somewhere with me. Well, at least the gigs were a great experience. Maybe when they go somewhere today I can ask them if I can join, but I'm not exactly sure that anyone is going to answer positively.  
After the yesterday's late arrival I haven't even really unpacked, but I check if I have everything ready anyways. Damn, these two weeks passed so quickly...  
Suddenly I hear someone coming towards the door. Once again, it's not Cliff as I always first assume.  
"Hey Day, do you have any special plans for this evening?"   
I turn to see James leaning over the door frame, with his hair shinier and fluffier than ever before.   
"Yeah, sure thing. Why?" It's a nice surprise.  
"Well, I just don't think that it's fair for you to be locked in the house all the time. I finally have some time now so I want to ask you if you want to go somewhere." He offers with a little insecurity in his voice.  
"I'd be glad! But what about the other guys?" It leaves me a bit shocked.  
"Screw those fuckers, I have no idea where the fuck they are. You will unfortunately have to deal with just me. Come on, I know a great place."   
"I'm okay with that though." I get up and follow him, feeling a little uneasy but still excited.  
It's not that far. The evening it's as warm as always, so we walk for a little.  
We stop a cozy-looking, quite small but appealing place. It looks live a dive-in bar. Man, how much I love this kind of place. The best memories always happen there.   
We go inside and it looks even better. A small stage with a band playing, a billiard and a target with arrows are situated close a small wooden dimly-lit bar. Calm can be felt in the air as some people seem to have fun, lots of them in leather jackets and cowboy hats.   
We both order a beer, but I go with just a small one now.   
"So, what are your plans? Like, for the nearest future?" James asks me after he takes a huge sip from his beer.  
"Um, I don't really know. Whatever happens, happens. But tell me about yours, I bet that they are more interesting." I just laugh it off, because I don't sant to show that I don't see any light at all in my life. He has ninety-nine problems, and I refuse to be the hundredth one. Bothering others with myself is not a part of my personal brand, altough that I often feel like I need to scream for help.  
"We will fix the thing around the album recording soon. Hopefully it will be out by summer already. Right after we are touring it and that's certainly going to bring the band a huge promo. He says with it visible excitement.  
"Does it fulfill you? Like, are you finally at least somehow happy after all the horrible stuff you've been through? Do you feel like your life finally has a meaning?" I blurt out, because I had to, altough it feels wrong.  
"I can say that all of this does its job. I'm doing my best to move on. The band it's getting really successful and it means a lot to me. I want to give everything to it and that's what matters to me right now." He says seriously, convincing me.  
"But let's not ruminate this evening. Come on, we are here to have fun. Can you play billiard?" He changes his tone and gets up with his beer.  
"It's been quite a long time, but I can try. You go first."  
"Alright. Hold my beer." I slightly laugh as he hands me the rest of his beer, rushing to the green table.  
"Look, it's pretty simple. To get it right, you need to position yourself like this and then you just need to hit it right with the right amount of force." He describes while slowly positioning himself over the edge while trying to focus the stick on the centre of the front ball. Then he hits, but he misses to hit some of them. I giggle at his dissapointment. "Shit, I always get it. Nevermind, your turn." He says with a little laughter as he gets back the balls.  
I try to follow his wise instructions, but in fact I haven't been really paying attention to his playing, I just couldn't help myself but observe him and his every charming move. I have no idea why the hell am I so fucked up, but I'm enjoying it.   
"Almost, but not like that. You need to slide it between your fingers, here, let me show you." As he catches my hand from behind and then gently grabs my hand to position it, I suddenly feel stiff. Despite the fact that I'm enjoying the time spent with him so much, I am now kind of glad that I'm leaving tomorrow. He has a way too strong effect on me and I'm not sure if I can handle it.   
I do my best to focus and try to make a hit, but I miss some too.   
"Ah, fuck this. I'm way better at throwing the arrows."   
"It's way better when you light them up."   
"I don't want to burn an entire fucking bar, dumbass." I realize that I'm getting somehow more comfortable with him.  
I throw one right inti the center. James follows me with a horrible miss.   
"Oh, you need to have the right swing to hit the center. Lemme show." I don't even realize how, but I'm suddenly grabbing his hand. I notice how he makes the same look on his face as me a few moments ago. Seems that I just can't stop this shit. My sadness from the fact that we won't probably even get to talk ever again after tomorrow kicks in even more, but I still manage to lead him to perfectly hit the center. "See? Not that hard."   
Soon after we pay and leave.  
"So, how was it?" James asks me on the late night walk back to the house.  
"Perfect. Thank you so much for today." I try to say it positively, but I can't hide the despair in my voice.   
"Then why are you so upset?" He seems to be actually worried.  
"That I have to leave tomorrow. I will miss you all so much every day. I'm so grateful for everything, my life will never be the same again." I get out of myself.  
Now his mood drops even more, but suddenly a strong determination kicks.  
He grabs me from behind and looks into my eyes.  
"No, you won't do that." And as he said that, he slowly kissed me.


	8. Chapter 8

That one single sentence hit me like a truck. What followed hit me even more. But in a rather positive way, despite all of the anxiety around it.   
"I would love to, but I don't think that I can. I need to to somethinf for living, other than moping your pukes and mixing you wake-up sodas after you thrash yourself all over again." I say with shaky voice.  
"I think I have an idea that you will absolutely love." I get even more scared over what he's going to say.   
"Sorry that I looked into your notebook without your permission, but what you wrote there is simply fascinating. I love how you described us and what we represent, it truly feels on another level. Maybe you can write a few articles, I'm sure that you have some talent. Point of the view of people that truly have the feel for this type of music it's way more important than stupid, dull reviews of corrupted critics."   
That sounded rather aspiring. "Yeah I know... well, thanks. Glad you make me stay because you need a promoter, but well... I just don't know." I say partially sarcastically.  
"Oh, stop it. I know that you are maybe scares of change but isn't this what you really want?" He looks at me and comes closer.  
"Listen, no one is ever going to hurt you. Do you trust me?" He looks deeply into my eyes.  
Why should I hold back? I won a lottery. It's all I want and I have nothing to lose anyways.  
"Yes, I do." I say softly.  
He just smiled and we walked back to the house. It's pretty late already.  
I just don't know what I will tell Cliff, because I'm not sure if he should know this. He might be concerned. All I know that I never want to lie to him. But I am finally starting to feel happy and I'm sure that I want to keep it. Let's just hope that he won't further investigate my prolonged stay and will rather think that I'm staying because of Kirk or something like that. Eventually, he will understand.  
Entering the house, we heard that the rest of the bunch is already back. And they don't even seem drunk.  
"Are all of these seriously your toys? You sure that you didn't accidentaly throw them in your bag while you were stoned from your little brother's shelf or something?" Lars comically runs around with some action figures, probably from some comic books or horrors, while he showcases his annoying, kind of evil, loud laughter.  
"Fuck off, I collect them! Damage one of them and you are fucking dead, man!" Kirk yells with concerned look in his face, while he runs after him. I can't hold my laughter over this.  
"Just leave his shit be, Lars. Learn to mind your fucking buisness." Cliff shouts to them while walking away.  
"Damn, you even went to buy old comic books? Not porn mags? We have a nerd here!" Lars giggles even more as he harasses seemingly pissed Kirk, randomly taking his stuff. He might me a talented musician, but his talent to annoy people is way more undeniable.   
"Put it down or I will shove your drumsticks up your stupid ass!" Kirk pretending to be badass makes the whole situation even more hilarious.  
"What the fuck it's going on here? Why is there a special kindergarden in our house?" James asks, looking terribly confused.  
"I don't have a place to keep my collections in my room so I put everything to the garage but this tiny shithead has apparently a problem with it." Kirk answers like a kid caught in a fight with siblings by their parents. Seems like we have loads of fun ahead of us.  
Before Lars yells another salty comeback, I interject.  
"If you want, we can switch rooms. I have a small shelf that I don't really need, but it may come handy for you." I offer. I think that it's better than moving the furniture, and besides that my room is better for that.  
"Seriously? Oh god, thank you so much, I appreaciate that." He seems genuinely cheered up and that makes me feel better.  
James doesn't look bothered. Dave's old room, now Kirk's, is right next to his anyway. To my surprise it seems that Lars got actually finally lost.  
"Wait, why is that necessary? Aren't you leaving tomorrow, at least from what I remember?" Cliff asks, turning on me. Now what?  
"Um, well I planned to tell you that I decided to stay here. I can arrange all the things for myself here in a couple of days."   
He just smiles, looking like he doesn't suspect anything. "I'm glad to hear that. You can be there as long as you want." I just smile at him back.  
Kirk seems happy over it also.   
"So, where is your stuff?" I come up to him.  
"Here, I'm gonna show you. Can you please help me with it?"   
"Sure thing. So, why do you even have all of these here?" I ask him, trying to mske a conversation.   
"Oh, I absolutely love old horror stuff, both movies and comics. Everywhere I go, I find and hit some comic store and read them in my spare anytime I can put my guitar down. I also have more of them and some movies that I rather left back at home. The classic ones from like 50s and 60s are my favourites, escpecially Bela Lugosi ones. I watch my favourites all over again." He seems really enthusiastic and adorable while he talks about his interests. Such a cute dorky nerd, yet a badass metal guitarist. I can't process how this is the same person that I saw on the stage few days back. Seems strange, but he's a very likeable person.  
While he talks about stuff I notice that we have moved almost everything.  
"That's pretty interesting. Well, I guess that you have your space now. Tell me, do you sometimes play with them too?" I ask with a little giggle.  
"Yes, I admit it. I told my girlfriend that if we ever move in together, I would just require a room where I can sometimes play with them." He says with childish joy.   
I smile at his cuteness. Guess that this all is going to work out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that remember that this book is rather about the psychology, relations and thoughts than about the plot, and sorry for it being so weak, I just had to express some stuff here :-)

Trying to sleep tonight reveals to be worthless real quick. No matter what I do, the thoughts of what's going to be from now on can't just simply leave me be. All that I want now is to help James out of his remaining pain that still stains and may eventually take the best out of him one day, and to help myself out too. But the realization that I'm on a very thin ice now and may actually fall down even deeper and pull him with me sends chilling shivers down my spine. Hoping for the best won't really help me, the best I can do is to do whatever it will take to acheive it, and do anything to find the right ways how to do it.   
Overthinking is the last thing I should do now. After somehow getting some sleep I decide that the best thing right now would be just to start working on my new life.   
But at this exact moment I am not quite sure how, because the article that I plan to write about them will be best to write after next gig, which will be this friday. Right now the bunch focuses more on the studio work, because they naturally have a lot to catch up on, and besides that, they need to rewrite some material. James seems to be kind of positive about it, since he disagrees with some ways of Dave's writing, mostly when it comes to the lyrics. He keeps saying that they are not some 'generic badly-glued-wig "metal" wannabes' and the band wants to express a deeper musical idea then the well-known 'hey-baby-let's-party' type, which is overwhelmingly annoying and extremely shallow. They rather want to express their thoughts and emotions through their music, to speak to the audience and make them relate.   
Dave's subtly sexually explicit lyrics for Mechanix, Jump in the Fire and Phantom Lord got quickly changed in James' initiative to tell stories about violence, metal shit and death instead. Riffs were usually kept in or somehow changed, like in Mechanix, in which he got an idea from the gallop rhythm- arrival of the four horsemen, which got especially realistic tone from Cliff's bass line. There I see that altough religion took a toll on James' life, he can still use it as an inspiration. Well, the 'brutal' parts of the bible that involve hell, murder, hookers and stuff are inargueably perfect for metal.   
This album seems overally great as a debut, but they are sure guilty of singing about the same 'badass' things that metal musicians constantly do. Not really anything deeply philosophical or emotional can be found on it. But sure, that's rather something for future albums, because firstly, putting out personal traumas and depressions on the debut recording doesn't seem like a good desicion and secondly, these things are still too fresh and it's obvious that he is not ready to express his wounds musically already and it's obviously too soon to open them even slightly.   
Even fresher thing is what happened with Dave. Sure thing, they are acting all happy like they just got rid of the weight that was actually pulling them down lately and they are very satisfied with the new, self-less, completely unproblematic new guitarist, but on the other hand I am convinced that James feels really horrible about what he had to do. Their frendship may have been strained towards the end, which was sadly the only part of it that I got to witness, but I just know that there was a special connection between them and that they were like brothers. Both came from fucked up families which caused them traumatic childhoods that they are never going to get back, grew up to feel like they are lost and don't have anybody on this world. For a person like me is immediately certain that they understood each other the best they could and despite that they may have often disagreed on the outside, deep down inside they needed each other. And I know that James realised that. He can act all though and accomplished for days, and everyone around may buy his bullshit, but I will never, and I suppose that he knows. But due to the mix of his explainable safekeeping of emotions and strong ego he'd rather get burned than admit that. Sooner or later, he will come out with his concernes is he really trusts me, but it's not the right time for it yet, so I won't poke him with this still hot subject in the near future. Everyone tries to avoid this discussions.  
Everything works out just right. Everyone acts like nothing happened at all. The boys have been pretty busy for the last few days, and when they have time we hang out and have fun. I would really like to go to some place with them and spend an evening out with the whole bunch, but I am sort of scared of how it is even going to look like. Trying to figure out how to drive them home drunk, holding their hair so no one will have to smell an odour of a rotting booze vomit radiating out of pretty locks or witnessing some gross sexual behaviour carelessly happening in a public place right next to me is definetly something that would give me horrible memories and fray my view of these lads.   
Enough of that. The things are going out nicely, and no one dares to speak the name of the forbidden ginger, until this evening, which originally started off as peaceful.   
As always I am just picking a beer, about to ask James, who is just about to start chilling, how was his day, while Lars engages in a random drum practice and Cliff does something in another room, when suddenly someone rushes through the front door like a thunderstorm.   
Now I witness something that I used to swear that I would never ever get to see- an angry Kirk. A furiously angry one. He is most likely that type who is never angry for anything, except for few crucial situations, and when that gets to happen, then lord have mercy.  
"That fucking bastard! I will fucking kill that piece of shit, I swear. That sick motherfucker deserves to get his skull crushed!" He storms to the kitchen, hysterically screaming. I want to tell him to cool down and not to do anything stupid so bad, but right now it seems rather counterproductive and I also can't even move from the shock.  
"Woah, okay, easy there. What the fuck is going on?" James jumps from his seat and asks him calmly.  
"That crazy ginger motherfucker nailed my fucking girlfriend! Who the fuck he think he is? I never did anything wrong to that shithead, it's not my fault that he drowned in fucking drugs and got kicked out!"   
Oh fuck, here we go again. We all knew that the peaceful atmosphere won't last long, but deep down we hoped that Dave takes time with planning his revenge. The fact that he layed his anger on the most innocent one pisses me off as well.  
"I'm sorry to hear that, but you need to calm down. None of it is your fault." Cliff appears in the room, trting to comfort the situation.   
"We should have warned you better, but no one expected this. Come on, sit down here. We can talk about it if you want." James offers, looking visibly concerned.  
True is, that this was kind of predictable. He must feel so deceived right now that even a small revenge could help him to feel a lot better. Doing something illegal wouldn't be best for him right now, so he just picked the best way to dehonest someone from the band he despises the most now.  
The fact that she was careless enough to just cheat with another guy who wanted to take a revenge on her boyfriend makes me feel terribly bad for Kirk, but the best thing that I can do is to not get involved, so I just leave this hell pit, passing Lars in the doorway. Shit seems to go down.  
I can't even describe how tense the situation feels tonight. Sleeping doesn't even come to mind, so I rather hold on until late night when everything seems to finally cool down for a moment and go to the terrace to light up a one. It's not really surprising to me that I notice James sitting there, doing the same thing.   
"You seem pretty fucked about how it all went down." I carelessly say to him, catching the feeling that it's finally time to talk about the elephant in the room.  
He sighs deeply, but chooses to get it out. "Don't tell the guys, but, you know... I do feel really bad for having to fire Dave. The way how our differences kept on growing until we couldn't stand each other anymore fucks me up." He stops to throw out his cigarette. "At first, we both felt like brothers, we suddenly had someone, someone who knew how we felt, but then our ways kept parting until... I just really hope that he makes something of his own and keeps living on, but he always seemed so lost to me, and now he has no one. It is indeed his fault, but, no one is there to help him up anymore." He says quietly as he looks up to the sky, wondering.  
"Isn't it ironic how we were made to eventually need the helping hand in our lives, but it was actually never there for us?" I get to think.  
He looks at me, giving the impression of thinking about it.  
"It's cruel, but we can't do anything about it except for not letting ourselves done. But even that requires strength, which never comes easy either."


	10. Chapter 10

Time's arrow kept marching on without turning, stopping or changing it's speed. The way how it endlessly kept going forward with the constant speed never fails to creep me out.   
And now it has reached Friday with the gig that I am meant to write about. Anxiety is what kept filling me more and more, several days before the day finally came, besides excitment. Throughout the years I have somehow developed this kind of sixth sense which always told me that soemthing crucial will happen at some certain day, usually when something important was meant to happen at that certain day. The shitty part is that I never knew if it's going to be positive or negative, not even a bit. Well, all I can do is tell the intrusive thoughts to fuck off and hope for the better.  
But another thougt crept up on me instead.   
I get to think about James' uniqueness as an artist. Everybody keeps saying what an awkward kid he was on a stage not so long ago, and pretty much still is off it, but he has evolved to a pretty confident frontman, with some kind of strong beast which fully unleashes during gigs only.   
Not just the way that he presented his art, but the way how he made it made me really interested too.  
He was always way more emotional than he ever showed, I know that and I understand. And there's still plenty of time for him to project it into songs.   
This is naturally how all of the best artists were. From my personal point of view it's not just about artists, but also people overall. The ones that were tested the most, but rose from ashes became the best one. Because the ones that never knew the true pain and suffering and were satisfied with their unbothered lives had neither urge nor the drive to endlessly fight for the better. At the end of the day, it was always the hurt ones who clenched their teeth and got to thrive more than the ones who were happy since their birth. Even despite the pain they had to bear, with the gruesome parts of it thay remained with them until their death. These people often brought change or at least created something that became remembered. I think that it's melancholic how products of someone's endlessly creeping pain become a source of entartainment mostly for those who could never understand, but after all it has lots of positives. Maybe some were meant to be broken so they could fill the cracks with gold and mend themselves together to thrive more than the complete ones. Like I once saw on the old Chinese ceramics. The ones that were rebuilt with gold became even stronger and more unique. It is just how it is, and all we can do is take it and accept it.

Snapping out of it all now. Never have I ever felt so damn nervous while packing anywhere. I should just calm myself down, it's just another gig, I got it. And I am not in a position to have anything to worry about right now. Yet still I can't send it away, wanting to scream in agony as I am unable to know the reason. Besides, this feeling has never failed me. When someone has overally a stressfull and boring life with barely anything exciting in it like I do, any slight unusuality, even when it's most likely a positive one, stresses the living shit out of me, no matter what position I am currently in. My life has maybe changed to better but this shit stays, and that's what really bugs me. Maybe it's just a random nervosity, but I always tend to opt for the worst. Because from experience, the worse has awlays equaled to the more probable.  
The best coping mechanism for this kind of mental state is obviously deeply concentrating on something else. Fortunately it's seemingly easy right now for that I can simply focus and try to catch the visibly booming excitement of the guys as they get ready to leave. The thick air from Dave's brutal firing, and circumstances all around it, seems to be completely gone. At least on the outside though.  
So I rush to the one that brightens up my mood by simply existing and at least give him a quick hug. Holding him anytime gives me the sense of warmth and calm that I never had but always needed. Sortly running my fingers through his blonde waves immediately threw shade at my despair.

There is not really much time left after we arrive in New York this time, so the preparations begin just as we set off and head straight to the venue. I am pretty glad for that, because I can focus on writing the article more. Focusing on work can sometimes be the best therapy.   
The show was obviously as great as always. But also so damn distracting that I will have to finish writing it later. Nevermind that though, it's not urgent after all.   
It's always a nice feeling to see them all drenched in sweat but still hyped up from the energy from the audience as they leave the stage with big smiles on their faces.  
Before I even the opportunity to move, I get my way blocked by ultimately overhyped Lars with a wet towel thrown over his shoulders.  
"Hey Day, um, I was just thinking, do you um, want to go for a drink with us tonight? Don't worry, none of us is planning to get thrashed drunk, just a few rounds." He blurted out while comically moving around a bit.  
So this was what my intuition was trying to tell me. But well, fuck it, it won't do sny harm to lose control for once. Sure thing that I'm gonna regulate it, but not much.  
"Yeah, I'd be glad to!" I smile and say out loud. After all I wished to go somewhere with them all for quite long already now.  
"Great! Just wait for us for a while until we get ourselves together." He says and already turns around as I confirm.   
Not even half an hour has passed and we are already sitting in a dimly lit, comfortably looking bar close to the hotel. At first it seems like the promise about not getting thrashed today. Everyone orders just big beers and I opt for a small one. I just don't know how much they can handle and how long are they going to stay here, but it's obvious that they can take a lot and still feel just a bit dizzy. I have certain tolerance too, but they definetly have ucomparably higher ones. Learning that alcohol tolerance is not a competition and getting called a weak pussy by stronger examples is still better than having them drive to the ER while you are slowly blacking out was a hard but valuable lesson which I am keeping forever.  
This time my intuition turned out to predict something positive after a long time. The feeling of belonging somewhere which I craved through my entire lifetime but never had finally starts to fill me for the first time and I can't be more grateful for that.  
Altough that I don't get absolutely involved in the conversation, I listen to them and laugh at their stupid jokes. After all I've always preferred to listen and to examine people.  
Lars' eyes keep ending up on a tall blonde across the bar. Everyone around the table notices it real quick and so they make him shoot his shot on her. No one needs to tell him twice, he just orders a vodka shot for courage and approaches her while everyone silently laughs. He is maybe tiny and sometimes annoying, but his social and flirting skills are something that I will never stop admiring.   
I wonder how are the others going to spend the rest of their evenings.   
Cliff certainly loves to have fun without giving less than zero fucks, but he is not much of a type to get thrashed regulary or fuck around every night. He is moderate and grown and way above the others, which made him a natural authority for the rest of the bunch, yet he acts like their equal friend and that's why he deserves so much respects.  
Kirk is a wilder one, but deeply emotional as well and still seems to be moving on from his latest negative experience. He is not broken as much as James, but deep down I have a feeling that he has some wound that I don't know of yet.   
As I am finishing my beer, I see Cliff and Kirk about to leave together. I did not pay attention to what they were talking about, but I suppose that they are going to roll a joint and hang out together. They became best friends in a couple of days.  
I peak at how it the Lars' situation going. The blonde doesn't seem to be largely interested, but the two are still talking.   
What surprises me in a positive way is that the only thing that James had this evening is that one beer which is not even finished yet. It's nothing like him, but I'm glad.  
"Why don't we get out of here?" He looks at me and proposes.  
"Sure, I think it's time." Seems like we are left alone and that doesn't happen often.   
"So, are you writing that article?" He breaks the silence on the short way to the hotel.   
"Yes, but I still need to finish it. Don't worry, you are getting all the praise you deserve." I reply while we are infront the hotel already.  
"That doesn't matter. Write what you really feel." He responds flegmatically.  
"I would never write bullshit, trust me. If you'd suck, nothing could stop me from dragging the living shit out of you. But I do love it and I know how to appreciate the quality." I say in a serious tone. He just genuinely smiles, signifying that he believes me.   
When he opens the door I notice that my bag is there too. I completely forgot about the room situation while arriving there. But I am not complaining.   
"Well, guess that I'm staying with you." I say as I sit on the only bed here.   
He is about to say something, but I know what. "I'm okay with it, I want to be here with you." I quickly assure him.  
"Tell me, do you feel truly happy with us?" He sits next to me and looks directly into my eyes.  
"Believe me, I really do. I finally know how it feels to have a family. It feels like I belong with you all, and that's all I care for right now. And most importantly that I belong with you." I spill it all out, denying his doubt.  
He smiles in response and gently cups my face. We hungrily kiss each other for long. And I know where this is heading, but it's the right time for it. I would never want something drunk or something that I'm not really sure of, but this is not the case. Maybe it's impulsive but I don't care. All that matters to me right now is that I want him close.


End file.
